A Hundred Problems In One

Before we start, a little bit about the story. The story is a Hundred Word Challenge which my best friend Susan sewell and I are undertaking. Its quite simple. We just hunt up hundred words with no connection whatsoever and write a chapter using each word one by one. So, we both are writing stories with a similiar background. Do check out her story also sometime, please. Thanks. Oh by the way, the 1st word is Pragmatic!

Without further ado...

Chapter 1

Greetings. I suppose. I should start with my name. I am Jackie Chan. Hehehehe, just kidding (I love his movies though). I am Lisa. Seventeen years and a couple of months old. What else? I live in Iseberg, a small, largely unknown country near Iceland and even though the people who do know us would like to say we are quite backward and hidden and part savage and what not, I'll tell you truthfully that we are as normal as most people and we have all the facilities that a country in the 21st century should have. Once we had this explorer-writer, I forgot his name, who came to Iseberg (pronounced Ee-se-berg). Its been said he nearly collapsed from shock l when he saw that we had proper bathrooms instead of potholes. God! Sorry getting back to the main story.

Where were we? Yeah, we were having an introductory session. I also read and write fiction. I can paint, draw, sketch only when I have the patience. I love action movies and Japanese anime. I am a really social person but in a nice, moderate way. You may ask why I am I telling you all this. Well, this is my problematic story and I wanted to at least start it on a happy note.

I guess instead of boring people with my small (correction HUGE) problems I could just write a diary and pour my heart and soul out and into it. But wait, there's a problem there too. I can't write diary-entries like pragamtic people. Pragmatic. That word and I are polar opposites. If a situation demands me to turn left my legs will most probably steer me right. Its not as if I have some mental problem. In fact I have been remarked to be quite brilliant. Its just that I have a rebellious streak. Yes, that's right. A rebellious streak. At least that's how I convince myself.

I'll give you a small example. A few days ago I accidently set fire to my room. Believe me it was an accident. No, I am not telling you how it happened but I will tell you what happened next. Unlike a normal, sensible person who would have called the fire department or thrown buckets of water on it, I tried to stamp it out using newspaper. Of course, that piece of nature had to catch fire. Then, I accidently poured a can of torch-lighting oil thinking it was a jar of water. Yeah, you get the idea.

I somehow squirmed out of that one.

But now, I am being sent to a silly finishing school which I quote Will greatly ready you for your coming-of-age, Princess Lisa.

That brings us to my biggest and prime problem, I am a Princess, which if you must know is the shittiest thing in the world.

Oops, I suppose if Madame Dehlilia, who I am sure just pretends to be French, would have a fit (a put-on one, I am sure) if she heard me use such un-royal language. In fact it was this great rat of a woman who told Father this equally ratty idea.

See, my father, King Jeffre, the most amazing ruler and parent, is set to retire from royal service as per the decree signed between the Supporters and Frats which in turn is the order followed by most still functining Kingdoms all over the world. So, our estate cannot have a ruler who is above 55 years of age. He is going to celebrate his 56th birthday this year. That means that that heavy piece of metal which adorns my father's head is going to weigh down my head in a few months time.

I know what you are thinking by now. If I am a Princess then am I not a little too cool for it? (Although you could easily think that I am whiny idiot which I assure you I am not.) That's where I burst the happy bubble I created. In front of people I am a princessy-Princess. Responsible, wise (though people have begun to raise questions on this one), intelligent, understanding, charming amd perfect. I know, I know, they are sadly mistaken but that's how I want them to be for now. Oh you'll get to know why soon enough (as soon as I come to know why myself). Tell you what, you want to see my princessy image. I'll show you right now.

"Princess Lisa!" the calm and level voice of Janet, my maid (who I have always vehemently disagreed to associate with as some one below myself. Something that irks both Janet and Madame Dehlilia greatly), reached my ears for the third time and I left my fountain pen on this very sheet of paper.

"Yes, Janet," the time which she had taken to open my door and walk in was used cleverly by me. I was now standing in the middle of the room in a graceful stance with my back straight and dress smoothed.

"His majesty, wishes to speak to you, your highness," she smiled.

I started, "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me 'your highness'? Its Lisa."

"Yes, your highness Lisa," she gave another smile.

Now that our customary opening dialogue was over she continued in a much serious tone, "Princess, you have to realise your place in such times."

"I support democracy and equality," I huffed, knowing that if this statemnt ever reached the ears of any of the royal officials my visits to the library would be banned I cut my further speech short and walked to Father's chambers.

Standing outside his door I knocked and said, "Father, its me, Lisa."

"Come in," a deep, warm voice answered.

I walked in, handss to the side and head held high. Smiling I sat (fine, plopped is the word) on the couch and looked at him expectantly.

"It is not 'its me Lisa' it is 'It is I. Princess Lisa'," his eyes twinkled.

"But you are not Princess Lisa, " I replied cheekily with my most innocent face but his face got covered my seriousness.

"Lisa, we are here to discuss a most important matter. The Frat committee wants to have the crowning this week itself as according to the order I am already several months retired. You are to be the next Queen."

I felt like gaping but I just nodded a single nod.

"I know you are not ready-" Now, I seriously felt like gaping. "-but you have always been the type to adapt yourself to the situation. Just like a true ruler. I had wanted to sent you to the Marlene's Finishing School first but I know you can do well enough without their training. Ask Janet to make the arrangememts. We leave in three days."

"Pardon me," I broke in. "We leave?"

"Due to security concerns the crowning has to take place in a neutral country. I hear the PPP has organised another crowning on the same day to heighten the security."

"Who is being crowned with me?"

"Princess Liorna of Salzburg," he answered and went back to typing on his laptop (bet you thought he wrote with quills on parchment or had a scribe), a gesture that meant I was dismissed. I glided out.

What the hell just happened? I am going to be a Queen. Just thinking about it made me feel dizzy. So, I shifted my thoughts. Liorna was going to be Queen too. We had met at different royal occasions.

Being Princesses we could hardly talk to each other but from what I have heard she's a real nut. I have heard from different people on different occassions that she is mean and horrible. She treats her attendants in a most superior way and uses six different types of combs to comb her hair. The list of her pecularities is long but in short, I do not feel like meeting Her Highness on my special day.

I admit, I do feel excited about the crowning. Its kind of exhilariating. I want do do it now. I seriously want to be walking down the red carpetted aisle and be crowned. Don't blame me, it is after all every girl's dream. I was going to live it.

"Your highness," Janet bustled in to my lonely but rather lavish room in Zurich, "here's your dress. Your attendants will be coming shortly to dress you."

I nodded gracefully. As soon as she exitted my lonely but rather lavish room I ran to the parcel she had placed on my bed. I gasped as I opened it. The dress was beautiful. It was a blood red gown which would flow down to the ground. The skirt was layered and layered. As I looked at its beauty I wondered at dressing up in it. It was going to be tough getting into it but my attendants would manage it.

Some twenty minutes later, my attendants finished dressing me. I looked into the full length mirror. The gown suited me, or so I thought. My hair was done up in an exaggerated french plait. I was wearing high heels. Yeah, all in all, I wasn't looking bad.

I murmured, "Thank you," and followed one of the attendants who led me to the open air place that was to be my host for the double crowning.

I could see Liorna just sitting down on one of the plush seats reserved for royalty. Father gestured to me to sit down beside her. We nodded at each other and smiled that plastic smile that we princesses are taught from day one. Some old guy in ceremonial robes stood up to deliver a multi-paged sheet. I felt like groaning after five minutes but all I could do was to smile and look interested as well as highly pleased. I wished somebody would shut him up.

"Shut up, Dresmid."

I looked around in shock. Someone had actually fulfilled my wish. There stood Gastor, President of Frats, clad in in full military dress. I knew from his photos in Iseberg Times. Originally I had thought Frats were good democratic people who wanted to change Iseberg for the good of the people but soon everybody had come to know that they were just a false political party who wanted to overthrow our family and rule to fulfill their own greed.

Gastor stepped forward and within seconds we were surrounded by his guards. His tall form walked towards the two Kings who stood disarmed but proud.

"Greetings, Jeffre, Archus," he smirked. None of them replied.

"No response," Gastor made a face. "Won't you greet King Gastor?"

A gasp went through the crowd as he took of the two crowns from the kings' and dramatically placed them on his head. He looked kind of funny with the two crowns somehow balancing on his head. Father made to grab a sword from one of the soldiers but he was outnumbered in seconds."Not so fast, brother," Gastor pointed his sword at my father's neck. "The time when you outshone me is long gone. The kingdom will be ruled by its rightful King now." I saw beads of blood appear on Father's neck and at that moment I knew I was scared. So scared that tears began to drip down my face helplessly. I wanted to shout, tell Gastor to stop but my throat seemed to have choked. I saw, with dread of the knowledge of what was to come, as Gastor raised his sword high and his guards made my father kneel on the ground. Bending down I took of my shoe and threw it at Gastor's hand hoping to knock away that deadly piece of metal.

I know, the bladebreakers or anybody from beyblade or not in the picture right now but wait and watch, fellas. Sorry for any spelling mistakes and typing errors. Do leave a REVIEW as a writer isn't a writer without encouragement :)

-ZAK